


Feeling flows both ways

by pacoca



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adult Number Five, Alcohol, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Post-Canon, Pseudo-Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22159258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacoca/pseuds/pacoca
Summary: Vanya knows that Five hates her for causing the Apocalypse.for the Fiveya Secret Santa Event.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 75
Kudos: 470





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fiveyaaas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyaaas/gifts).



  
One thing Vanya has learnt the past couple of years at therapy is understanding the value of letting herself _be._ Part of the healing process is acknowledging that, well… things aren’t always going to be okay. Her emotions are ugly, unpredictable things but they are a friend, and as such must be treasured and considered.

So she’s crying at the park. It’s night. There’s half a bottle of wine on her lap. 

People are looking. That’s fine. Emotions are her friend. She thinks this as she takes another ugly, slobbery sip of her bottle. 

It’s the worst sort of crying. The kind that rattles your body from the inside out, makes you look like your face has been run over by a wet mop. Or maybe Vanya’s just never learnt how to cry graciously in her life. She pulls her sleeve down and wipes a hard, rough line across her nose. 

At least it’s not raining. 

The truth is, Vanya’s not a drinker. She hates the taste, hard and bitter on her tongue, sour when it pools in a heat down her stomach. Or the way it makes her feel loose, and a little less in control of herself. Lately, everything in her life has been about control. Or maybe it’s about losing it. It’s hard to think. Everything’s a little fuzzy. Like seeing stars. 

Vanya sobs and it’s heavy. It’s not raining because she’s in control. It’s because she’s not sad. She’s guilty. 

‘Five’s coming back.’ Allison said. 

Vanya might have choked.

They were having dinner at the Hargreeves mansion, redesigned to be their new base now that it's empty and their father’s footsteps are only something out of a bad dream. There was Diego’s turkey set on the middle of the table, and of course it tasted like ass, but that didn’t matter. The point of this is to be together. 

‘Really.’ Diego was impassive. ‘That can’t be good.’ 

‘It doesn’t have to be… did he tell you why?’ Luther asked. He shoves a large chunk of his turkey in his mouth.

‘No. He left a note and that’s it. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.’

Ever since they managed to jump into the correct the timeline Five had been living as a ghost, jumping in and out of the timestream to deal with the remainders of the Commission and anyone else who’d try to threaten the safety of the world. Time travelling for the rest of the Hargreeves was too risky, too many variables to consider, so it was imperative he made sure to take this journey alone.

Vanya can’t help but feel guilty, forcing her brother to a life of perpetual warfare for her sake, never able to settle, never able to feel at home anywhere. 

_It’s because of my powers,_ she thinks. Funny, she’s spent her whole life wishing she was more than ordinary, and now that she is she’s thinking she’d rather be normal instead. 

During those first few days after she woke up, when the overture would ring in her ears and sing to her like a bad memory, all she wanted was to let it end. She’d hated herself for what she had become, what she was capable of, and her fingers—numb, bloody, calloused things— for what she could do.

Despite that, her siblings were there for her, they were terrified but even so Allison had held her hand, and Luther held Allison’s and Klaus, Ben and Diego had stood, resolute beside her. 

But she can’t forget the way _he_ looked at her at the end of it all. Cold, angry eyes that left her trembling, even as Allison had offered her forgiveness and the motherly shape of her arms wrapped around Vanya’s shoulders like a blanket. He’d looked at her and she _knew_ how much he hated her, even then.

Vanya put her fork down, ‘I shouldn’t be here when he gets back.’ 

‘Vanya—‘ 

‘He doesn’t… he wouldn’t want me here.’ She told them. She meant to say it as a fact, but based on the way they looked at her it probably came out more pathetic than she wanted it to. 

‘Vanya, that’s not true.’ Allison said. 

‘I don’t want to ruin things.’ She amended. 

‘You won’t, baby sister’, Klaus put an arm over her shoulder, ‘I _promise_.’ 

Vanya smiled. 

What was it about emotions being her friend? 

She’d left after dinner, told them she was going to run out to get the last good bottle of wine from her apartment. Somewhere along the way, the sudden thought of him—the shade of his eyes—had wanted to make her crawl away from her skin. It was like her lungs had seized. Her blood was made of white noise. She’d run to the park, crying and overwhelmed (stupidly sensitive without the pills), drowning her tears in cheap wine and smothering herself with the frayed edges of her old, checkered sleeved shirt until her nose is red.

At least there’s nobody around to see her anymore.

Five kept in contact with a couple of their siblings once he’s gone, but he’s never made an effort to reach out to her. Not even once. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does now, it’s been years but the thought of seeing him again is making her stomach churn. 

Vanya knows its all she deserves but she’s never been very good at being brave.

That’s the part that hurts doesn’t it? She’d never needed bravery to be with him before.

There was a time back then when the afternoon sun would streak through the halls of the Academy like liquid gold, filtering between the curtains and the dark strands of his hair. He had a kind of color to his eyes then. Warm, even when he’s crass. 

They’d spend their free afternoons reading books and taking comfort in each other’s company. Their fingertips separated only by a couple of centimetres of thin air. 

Every day that big old mansion would swallow her up, and suffocate her with it’s hard, porous stone and the cold gaze of their adopted father. And he’d come to her, cocksure of himself and his baffling science, never knowing how much the presence of him means. 

The Academy had never felt like a home. But _he_ did. Now it seems like her life’s completely flipped over. She got everything she ever wanted. All it cost was him.

She takes another drink of her wine. 

Maybe it’s time to go. 

‘You alright there, lady?’ 

She looks up.

There’s three men crowding around her, surly and toothy, with broad shoulders and large hands. Their smiles splits their cheeks wide.

Where did they come from?

‘M’fine….’ She slurs. She gets up and the world tilts off axis, streetlights dragging across the pavement like smeared paint. Vanya reaches to steady herself against the bench. The wine tumbles from her lap, spilling red between her ankles.

‘You look like you need help.’ They say. It’s the bald one with the toothy grin. She tries to wave him off.

‘Dont… I'm okay.’ 

They start to laugh like Vanya’s just told the joke of the century. Maybe she has. Vanya laughs too.

‘You know, lady..’ One of them says. It’s the one with the bald head and the large leather jacket. He leans over, too close. She can smell the cigarette off him. ‘We can take you around if you want. You got anyone?’ 

‘Look guys, I really just want to be left alone.’ Her heads still spinning a little. She stumbles a couple of steps forward. She thinks they’ll leave her alone if she goes.

They don’t.

`Come on, it’s alright. We can take you. Where you headed?’

She moves past them, feet dragging heavy across the pavement. But they reach over and start pawing her, holding her shoulders and dragging her across like a limp doll. Her breath catches in her throat. They smell sour, sticky hands tracking sweat across her arms. The alcohol is swimming in her system. She’s not sure what’s going on, she’s too wobbly to bat them away.

 _‘_ Hey—you really don't need to--'’

One of them laughs and it’s terrifying, ‘It’s alright baby, we’ll get you home.’

She wants to kill them. It’s almost instinctual to reach in the deepest recesses of her mind and sing until the streets are covered in red, but she _can’t_ lose control. Not now. Vanya pushes away again, batting at them weakly.

'Please don't—‘

Suddenly something snaps in the air, sharp like lightning, and Vanya is pulled abruptly against a large, warm body. This scent is so familiar, and she feels her lungs closes in, chest tight at the weight of him. 

Five.

‘Get the fuck away from her.’ Five is _bristling_ . His anger is something animal, teeth and claws and unbridled danger. She doesn’t have the time to think about how he got here, or how the hell he ever managed to find her. She doesn’t even have the time to prepare herself for the very idea of _seeing_ him again because he’s pulling her back safe behind him and leveling the men with eyes that are set to kill.

‘What the fuck, man!’ 

She hears them coming forward and before she has time to blink there’s the _crack_ of bone hitting pavement followed by a gurgling wail. Five’s got one man on the ground, his leg on their back and their arm pulled dangerously taut behind them.

‘Holy shit.’

‘Fuck you!’ The man on the pavement howls. Five presses him down harder.

‘One more step and I’m tearing it off!’

‘Five—‘ 

‘Take it easy, man, we’re going!’

He studies them critically, and there’s a moment of wrought tension where they wait for him with baited breath. Finally, he releases the man under him with a hard shove. They start to scramble away. Five’s shoulders is a tense, hard line, even after they’re long gone. 

And she can’t stop looking at him.

His back is broad, suit barely crumpled, and he’s a good head taller now. Ever since they managed to correct the timeline, he’s been stuck aging somewhere between 30 and his actual age. She looks at the light dust of grey hair on the nape of his neck and the tiny, hard bite of his veins on his hands.

He looks tired. 

There’s an immediate instinct to hold her hand out and comfort the places that hurt, but that’s not who they are anymore, haven’t been for a long time. She swallows the ache in her chest and lets her hands stay limp on her side.

She needs to know if he’s okay, but she doesn’t want to sound like a condescending asshole about it. She takes a cautious step forward. Now that she’s here, she can at least try her best to be civil.

‘Hey…. uh, thanks.’ 

‘What the _hell_ are you doing?!’

Vanya blinks.

He gestures towards the broken bottle. The wine has dried on the pavement already, leaving behind a distinct dark stain and the sickly smell of hard liquor.

‘Why the hell were you drinking? Do you have any idea what you could’ve done? You could’ve risked _everything_ we worked for!'

The alcohol. The men. Her brain kicks in a second late.

‘I was in control.’ She tries, sheepish. It sounds weak, even to her. Five inhales through his nose and purses his lips tight. He’s so pissed he can barely look at her. 

That’s not fair. She’d kept her cool with those men, even after they had their hands on her. Vanya crosses her arms, shrinking in herself.

‘So I guess I can’t drink now.’ She scoffs. 

‘That’s _not_ what I’m saying.’ 

‘Then what?!’ She shouldn’t be raising her voice. A gale sweeps by and she could smell the scent of him, gunpowder and a sharp musk like Sahara heat and it's so familiar and so goddamn _good_ that it makes her want to scream.

He doesn’t trust her. Not with her powers, and not with herself. She knows this, and she understands why he’s upset, but she can't help herself from feeling bitter about it. There’s anger and guilt swirling in her chest and maybe it's the alcohol or something in the weather, but she finds that she can't push it down, even if she wanted to.

The wind picks up but Five continues to glare at her, unfazed.

‘You know _exactly_ —‘ he grits his teeth, ‘What would you have done if I wasn’t here? Would you have killed them? You can’t risk using your powers when you can barely even walk. And you can’t risk getting drunk in the middle of nowhere by yourself! Believe it or not, your actions have consequences. For yourself and for the rest of the world.’

‘I get it Five! I—‘

‘You _get it_ ?’ He’s incredulous, ‘You can’t just _‘get it_ ’! People will die—billions! You can’t afford to be so _irresponsible!’_

‘You think I don’t know that?!’ She cries. The wind howls violently and Vanya thinks theres the unmistakable sound of metal bending somewhere but she’s too angry to care, ‘You think I don’t wake up thinking about how I’ll never be good enough to control my powers… or, or how much of a burden I am to Allison and to everybody else… to _you_?!’

She can’t stop talking. She’s overwhelmed by him, his anger and his voice. The world sways to the shape of him and Vanya can’t stop herself from pouring out, from saying everything she doesn’t want him to hear. She doesn’t notice the sudden rush of rain around them, pelting her skin, soaking them both to the bone. The wind becomes a whisper of itself, the rain pours on.

She shakes her head, ‘You...you’re never here! And when you are, we don’t even talk… or look at each other.’ 

‘And I know why, and I—I get it.’ Vanya wipes her tears desperately. Jesus, they haven’t talked in years and now she’s having another fucking breakdown, ‘But I miss you. And I can’t stop. I want to, because it hurts every time I do but I can’t.’

‘So I fucked up. And I’m sorry, but don’t tell me I don’t understand. I’ve lost people too.’

He’s quiet. There’s nothing now but the sound of the rain between them.

Vanya remembers the warmth of that afternoon light with his eyes and his hair. There’s a space in her chest that will ache for him always, pouring out with the water.

The truth is, they don’t know each other anymore. He’s forgotten her, somewhere between stepping out into the world and choosing not to stay. And Vanya has been forced to shed the past off herself like old skin, layer by layer until she’s new. That’s why he can’t trust her. He doesn’t know who she is.

That’s why he can’t forgive her.

Now they are just two strangers standing under the rain.

It must be forever before she finally manages to gather the strength to look at him. She expects something like indifference, or that old anger from before. Instead, he’s looking at her with that steady, sure gaze of his, watching her with an expression she can’t quite read. 

It’s gentle though and maybe that's the part that surprises her the most.

‘Allison and Ben are waiting for you in your apartment.’ He tells her. ‘I told them I’ll take you home.’

Ben and Allison? God, they must be so worried. She can just imagine how she’d look when she gets home, red-rimmed eyes, stinking of alcohol and soaked down to her shoes. She told them she’d try her best to be okay. She promised.

She keeps quiet. The steady rain fills the silence between them.

Five tries again.

‘You’re going to catch a cold if we stay here.’ 

‘I don’t want to go home.’ She says, ‘I… I don’t want them to see me like this.’ She doesn’t want to stumble in again, broken and battered, another mess for them to fix. They’re too good for that.

He studies her carefully, ‘Alright.’ He says, ‘I know a place. Come on.’

He leads her out of the park, and after a beat, she stumbles after him. 

The rain starts to dwindle around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Had to break this to 2 parts because ngl its getting longer than I thought and I’m tired.
> 
> thank you to willowdeville on tumblr for helping me out with putting the image in the fic!
> 
> Original post: https://jubberry.tumblr.com/post/190076740460/this-is-for-tori-hi-im-your-secret-santa


	2. Chapter 2

They take a cab to the motel he’s staying at. 

It’s an old building with pale, flickering neon and a broken ‘VA N Y’ sign that hasn’t been touched since the 60s. The receptionist raises an eyebrow when they walk past, peering at them through the blinds, but leaves them alone. They trudge up the stairs outside, soggy shoes, hair still dripping wet. Vanya’s still swaying a little and Five holds her steady while they clamber up the stairs.

She doesn’t think about his arm draped across her waist, and his large, warm hand resting on her side.

Five’s room is small and grey with the barest essentials. There’s a kitchen counter on the corner, a small fridge, and a bed near the door. The air conditioner hums like an old radiator, the plaster peeling off its hinges. The TV in front of the bed is several years old. 

Vanya doesn’t say anything when he strides past and disappears inside the bathroom. She is shivering, bitter cold down to her toes. It’s the worst kind of feeling when your socks are soggy in your shoes, and your sweater is soaked with water. She shrinks in herself, hands tucked under her armpits, water dripping onto the carpet. 

When Five reappears he throws her a warm towel. Vanya reaches out to catch it.

‘Turn the knob right for the hot water. I’ll go look for clothes that could fit you and call Ben and Allison and tell them that you’re okay.’ 

‘Thanks.’ She curls her fingers around the towel. She feels awkward, a little aware of herself and the air around them. Five shoves his hands inside his wet pockets, staring at her quietly. 

‘Your welcome.’ He says.

Vanya gives him a small, shy smile.

She heads for the bathroom. 

‘Get some sleep.’ He tells her when she walks past, ‘I’ll call a cab for you in the morning.’

‘Where would you be sleeping?’ 

‘What?’ 

‘There’s only one bed and…. I don’t know if we’d fit.’’

‘Why wouldn’t we?’ 

She looks at him. 

‘I’m not sleeping on the floor.’ He says simply, and that was that. 

  
  


So now, Vanya is warm, huddled under his blankets. There’s a faint scent lingering on the sheets, like mothballs or old furniture. She’s wearing his shirt and his sweats and his boxers, all of them too big except for the boxers which are snug around her hips. Somewhere in the corner of the room, her panties are being hung to dry near the heater.

There’s probably a million different things wrong with this scenario. Five is still in the shower, and she’s not sure if that makes things easier or not. She keeps her eyes trained at the door, curled up on the edge of the bed, back facing the bathroom. She is _not_ thinking about the bathroom, or the shower, or who’s inside it beneath the steam and the water. His spot on the bed is empty, forbidden space and Vanya keeps her toes tucked underneath her and away from it.

Now that she’s sober she’s able to think a little more clearly. 

She just… threw a fit. Right there in front of him. He probably thinks she lost her mind back there, drunk like that, rambling hysterically. Maybe she has. She definitely feels like it now. 

There’s a part of her that hopes he’d forget about all this and they can go back to being estranged and awkwardly skirting around each other like before. It wasn’t a relationship of any sort, but it can’t be as terrible as what’s going on now. Never mind the fact that lying here on his bed, wearing his clothes and waiting for him to come back from his shower is putting off all sorts of terribly inappropriate images through her brain. 

But she can’t ignore the other part of her that wants for something more.

He told her once she was ‘ballsy’. Maybe not brave, but ‘ballsy’? Ever since she was young, Vanya has always tried to let her father know how much she wanted to be part of the Academy. It never worked, but the point is she tried, and that’s really the important part isn’t it? They’re both adults. They can have a conversation (a proper conversation) about their relationship and what they want. If Five doesn’t want anything to do with her, it would hurt but at least she tried. Who knows, maybe they could clear _this_ up and they could go back to being ‘somewhat civil’.

Maybe they could even become friends again.

She hears the shower go off and that thought dies in an instant. 

The door creaks open, loud and heavy against the hinges and it’s a lot like sitting on the block and waiting for the executioner though she can’t possibly understand why. Five’s bare footsteps are heavy across the carpet. She feels the bed tilt to his weight, and he settles in, pulling the covers over his body.

‘I’m closing the light.’ 

‘Okay.’ She squeaks.

There’s a faint _click_ and the room is bathed in darkness.

It’s quiet.

Vanya wants to crawl out of her skin. She doesn’t think she’s ever felt so uncomfortable in her life. There was a time back when she’d caught the flu and woke up with crusty vomit on her pajamas and she doesn’t think she’s felt as uncomfortable, even then.

Time ticks by slowly, each second dragging its weight across the clock. She could smell his scent on these clothes, a thick, familiar musk behind the smell of fresh laundry. And the smell of his shampoo is wafting in behind her. Faint, but somehow it seems to be all around. It's almost suffocating being overwhelmed by him when he feels so far away.

‘I’m sorry.’ He says. 

Vanya blinks. 

‘I shouldn’t have yelled.’ For a moment, he almost sounded nervous.

It's ... not what she expected. 

‘It’s okay.’ She says quickly. Her throat is dry, and her heart is beating like a drum, ‘I mean, you were right, you know. I was being irresponsible. The rules are different for me now. I get that.’ 

He doesn’t say anything and she feels the incessant need to blabber all of a sudden to fill the silence so she does, ‘Allison and the others…. they mean well but they always treat me like I’m something fragile. Honestly, it’s nice to have someone call my bullshit out for once without thinking I’d cause the second Apocalypse, you know. Not that I would but, I just hope they’d treat me normally. I know I’m not anymore— _normal_ , I mean, but…’

She goes quiet. 

‘Well, the others have never been good at figuring out their own bullshit.’ He tells her, ‘I’m not surprised they’re shit at figuring out everyone else’s.’ 

That gets a tiny laugh out of her. She thinks she can hear him laugh too.

When they both fall quiet, the silence between them is comfortable.

It's almost weird how quickly she falls at ease with him.

Five has always known how to make her feel okay when they were kids. Vanya doesn’t think he understands how, and maybe she doesn’t too, but there’s times when she’d get pulled down into some deep, dark pit and his voice was enough to pull her back again.

She hugs her knees closer to herself. She can hear the rise and fall of his breathing behind her so she knows he’s not sleeping yet. She wonders what he’s thinking about, if he’s remembering something similar. The thought of them before, and the distance between them now ... hearing his voice, and feeling the weight of him in his space in the mattress has her mind drifting. There’s an air to them now shaped like a wall, a boundary that cuts right between, and it’s hard not to forget it wasn’t there before. Five has always been impenetrable, but once upon a time, he’d opened the door just for her. 

The thing about doors though, is once shut it can be reopened, if he wanted to. She wants to think that he wants to. Vanya doesn’t know how many versions of herself she’s lived through in the past couple of years, but she wants to think this version of her at least, has the courage to try. 

‘Look, Five, about what I said—‘ 

‘Don’t. You were…’ He stops. He has never reached out like this before. Has it been bothering him all this time too, the distance between them? Sometimes, it feels like she can never figure him out. 

‘You weren’t wrong.’ He tells her. His voice is soft, ‘I haven’t exactly been… _present_ these past few years. At least, for you.’

So he was avoiding her. She was right then, and the thought of it is splintering her insides to pieces, but she doesn’t want to interrupt him. She doesn’t dare breathe. They’ve never gotten this far before, and Vanya’s not sure they’ll ever get here again.

‘You told me you know why. But I’m not sure you do. Not sure I do either. Easier not to think about it. The things you did.’

‘Five, I….’ She purses her lips. What can she say? _I’m sorry_? How many of those has she thrown at his feet? Apologising isn’t enough anymore, her sins far outweigh forgiveness.

Five has spent a lifetime in the Apocalypse and it’s all because of her. Time stolen can be rewritten, but never replaced. Even if the world is reset, the memories of the old timeline would always be Five’s burden to bear. He could pull the threads of circumstance towards a peaceful 2019, but he will never know a childhood without the taste of ash on his tongue, where loneliness isn’t stretched out before him like an empty sky. She stole that from him all those years ago, and maybe it’s because of the pills, or Harold, or her father, or maybe it’s no one’s fault at all, but the truth is, a gun is a gun, it doesn’t matter who pulls the trigger. It’s Vanya who will cause the world to explode and it’s Five who will bear the aftermath of it.

He doesn’t know her anymore. He doesn’t trust her. Even now, he’s avoided her all these years. But Vanya doesn’t want to hide anymore. The thing about opening closed doors is that someone will have to knock first before they’re allowed to enter. She turns to look at him, and his back is turned away, but that’s okay. If Five won’t let her in, that’s okay too. 

But she needs to know first.

‘I don’t know if we can ever get back to the way before.’ She tells him. ‘But I want to, if you want to. It’s been a long time since you could trust me, and after everything else I understand if you never can. But you were my only friend for a very long time. You always will be. And that meant so much, back then.. And maybe it’s selfish, or…. or stupid to ask but I still miss you, and I still want to try, if you want to.’

‘Do you…’ she hesitates, ‘Do you want to?’

The resounding silence is heavy. She wants to know what he’s thinking, desperately, but she doesn’t want to push. The A/C hums beneath the quiet, the whole world holds its breath, waiting for him. 

She looks at the shape of his back, the way the fabric of his shirt folds to the curve of his shoulders. Vanya reaches out, a ghost of a touch, fingers over the places where the shadows stretches across his spine and he stiffens underneath her.

‘Five…’

A shudder snakes up his spine.

‘I don’t—‘ He swallows, ‘I don’t know.’ 

Oh. 

Vanya pulls her hand back. 

‘Okay. It’s…. it’s better to know now, get it out in the open. I get it.’ 

He turns his body to look at her and she keeps her head bowed, staring at the space in the mattress between them. She doesn’t want to know what he sees in her eyes while she talks. 

‘The things that happened in the past aren't something that’s easy to get over. You have a right to be angry I… I just hope I never made you uncomfortable, or—we don’t have to talk anymore, if you don’t want to.’

‘Vanya.’ 

‘I’m sorry.’ 

She can’t look at him. 

‘Why are you apologising?’ 

God, she really is pathetic, and she’s not sure if she wants to laugh or cry at herself at this point. ‘I hurt you.’ 

‘You did, but,’ He tucks her hair behind her ear, ‘You’ve paid for it. And maybe I’m getting old but there’s not enough time between the both of us to feel guilty about the things that have already happened.’

‘Besides', he adds, 'maybe you’re not the one who should be apologising.’

Vanya frowns at him, ‘What do you mean?’

‘If I haven’t left…. Maybe I could’ve—‘ He stops, ‘Changed things, I don’t know. Been there for you.’ 

There is something fragile in the way he’s looking at her now. It makes her throat go dry. She wants to kiss his hands, hold the places that hurt until he’s okay again.

‘You didn’t know.’ She says.

‘I didn’t listen to you.’ He tells her, ‘If I’d stayed, things would’ve gone down differently. Better or worse, I _know_ that.’

‘But I’d still have my powers though, there’s no way to know the Apocalypse wouldn’t happen, even without Leonard and everything else. Five, you can’t honestly blame yourself for that.’

He looks away.

All this time, Vanya has been trying to wrangle with the guilt of bearing the Apocalypse onto the world, onto her family, and he’s been blaming himself the entire time. Is that why he’s been avoiding her? Why he couldn’t even bear to look at her? They’ve spent so much of their time in this peaceful timeline being swept up by the past, they’ve never had a chance to actually enjoy living in the future.

It’s silly.

The giggle she lets out is entirely involuntary.

‘What’s so funny?’ He looks offended. It makes her laugh even more. 

‘Nothing! I was just thinking about how much time we’ve wasted avoiding each other, when we could’ve just sat down and talked it out.’

‘Not one person in this family knows what positive communication would look like if it hit them in the head with a lamppost. Why’d you think the Apocalypse happened in the first place.’

‘I thought you hated me.’

He scoffs. 

‘I’m serious!’ 

‘If I’d hated you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’

‘Besides’, he adds, ‘You’re the only other person in this family with a half a brain in their head. I can’t hate you.’

‘Yeah?’

He pokes her side.

‘Why did you ... then how come you always avoided me?’ 

Five seems to struggle for words, ‘It’s hard…. not to look at you and think about how much I failed. The things I could’ve changed.’ He looks at her thoughtfully, ‘Though as I recall you were doing the same thing.’ 

She tries to smile, ‘I thought you hated me. Guess I was just too much of a coward to ask why.’

‘You’re braver than you think.

His gaze is soft. Vanya was never sure of it before, but he’s always looked at her this way, hasn’t he? 

He takes her hand and presses a gentle kiss on her knuckles. 

Her heart is beating out of her chest. 

‘I’m sorry.’ He says. ‘For leaving.’

‘No, it’s….’ she shakes her head, ‘I don’t blame you for that. And you shouldn’t either. And after everything, I…. Maybe it’s time for us both to let go of the past and start moving forward for once.’

He looks at her in that way of his, that makes her insides turn to knots under her skin.

There’s an air between them now that she can’t quite place. Maybe it’s always been there, hidden underneath the old pieces of themselves that they’ve pulled away, they just needed time to see it.

She watches him, tracing the lines across his face where his age has caught up with him.

He looks so different from the boy he was before. Tired. Even after he came back, he’s always looked at them with eyes that have seen too much, a life that’s stretched out for far too long. 

She brushes the hair out of his eyes. The sweep of grey hair is more prominent underneath, a dust of white sitting stark under the dark. She likes it, she thinks. She likes the bags under his eyes too, the shape of his jaw, and the crease dented between his brows from frowning too much.

She likes everything about him.

‘Five, I—‘

He kisses her. 

It’s a hard, fast press that leaves her off kilter. For a moment, Vanya is too stunned to move. But when he pulls away she’s quick, leaning forward and grabbing him to pull him back to her and now theres fingers in her hair and under her clothes, and _heat_ rushing between them; from the taste of him and the feel of his hands on her skin. She pushes her tongue in, tilting her head, tasting his spit, and he shifts so she’s caged between his legs. He breaks away and there's a wild, ragged look to him and he looks beautiful like this, even under the dark.

Five moves down, and she feels the ragged, desperate trail of his kisses across her jaw and down her neck. His kisses are hot, and relentless with just a hint of pain that keeps her writhing underneath him, desperate in a way she’s never been for anyone before.

When he moves to kiss her stomach, she tugs at his shoulders before he can push her shirt over her chest. 

‘What?’ He pulls back, breathless.

She looks at him, at the messy tangle of his hair. His eyes are blown wide, face flushed and lips full from where she’s bit them between their kissing. 

She loves him like this, rough and disheveled all because of her. It’s so different from the Five who is so polished and distant, and the thought makes her shiver, that he could want her that much.

But then there’s that old uncertainty creeping in again, the voice that tells she can’t have everything she wants, and she cant ignore it, not truly. After all these years and it’s the one thing Vanya has never truly learnt to strip away. 

‘I just—I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want… I don’t want to make things weird, or, I don’t want you to regret anything and…’ 

She trails off.

She’s not sure what he sees in her sometimes. Or why he looks at her like that, like he can’t quite believe that she’s real. 

And Vanya doesn’t want this to be one more thing he’ll regret after the high wears off and the dust settles between them. 

He kisses her now, her face between the palms of his hands, slow and sweet. She opens her mouth to the push of his tongue, and the slow, languid pace of his kissing leaves her boneless, a shiver crawling up her spine like a trail of sparks fizzling, thrilling her down to her toes. 

He presses his forehead against hers. 

‘I want you.’ His voice is hoarse, ‘I always have.’

There is something about the sure, certainty in his voice that doesn’t leave any room for doubting. _He wants her_. Her throat goes dry. Every thought in her brain is replaced by him, his breath on her lips and the fond way he rubs his thumb across her cheek, like he misses her. The door is wide open, she just has to be brave enough to step through.

‘Do you believe me?’

She nods.

He kisses her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even write this much for my school essays!! GOD
> 
> Smut is next chapter but I needed to cut this here, or else I'll lose my mind! I've been working on this for so long!!!! And it felt right to end the character stuff here, just based on what goes on and the pacing in the next chapter. Sorry!!! Thanks for reading!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

If there was one thing she’s learnt the most about Five growing up, it's that he will never pass an opportunity to dissect a thing that interests him. He pores over his books obsessively, reads the principles of a theory until the equations are etched at the back of his eyelids. He’s always had an inquisitive nature and Vanya should’ve known better, really, that that trait of his that she’s always admired about him would come to undo in her in the end.

‘You look good in my clothes.’ He tells her. Distantly, Vanya thinks it’s ironic, given that he's currently in the process of removing them, but his large, warm hands are travelling across her stomach, trailing goosebumps across her skin and it's probably best, just then, not to say anything at all. 

When he’s pulled his boxers off her, he sits back to take a look at her. His eyes are flaying her apart, she could feel it tracing down, lingering on her tits, her thighs and the space between her legs where she’s already, embarrassingly wet for him. 

He watches her like that until she's squirming.

‘You should…. you should take off your clothes too.’ She blurts.

God, that was awkward. 

It’s been a while, honestly. Or Vanya could possibly be the most unsexiest woman alive. 

He doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact, it looks like he enjoys watching her squirm. There is a secret sort of pleasure at the quirk on his lips that is making heat swoop in her belly, sharp and sweet all at once.

‘Maybe if you ask nicely.’ 

Vanya shivers. He takes his time, tracing his hands up the inside of her thigh, squeezing gently. He leans down to nip the crease of her skin.

She curls her fingers around the sheets.

‘Please?’ 

Her voice is too quiet. 

It…. seems to work, though.

He looks up at her and it seems like a switch is flipped. The lazy, languid grin of his is replaced with something barely restrained. He doesn’t take his eyes off her when he squeezes her thigh, before moving back to quickly take his clothes off, pulling his shirt over his head and sliding his sweats along with his boxers, kicking them off to the side. 

Vanya swallows.

He’s beautiful.

It's a strange thing to think when she's known him all her life, but he is. The pale light is casting shadows on his skin in shades. And when he moves to crawl over her, she can see the muscles swell under his skin, the thick lines of his veins snaking across his arms.

And the old scars that are carved thickly across his body like angry lines.

She takes his hand and leads him towards her until he’s towering over her, facing each other.

Here, the abrasions on his skin crisscross against the pale light. It is meaty, pulpy old wounds, healed somewhat, to varying degrees. They cross his chest and his arms in permanent lines, thick or swollen, charting the curves of his skin like a map.

She imagines him hunched over, blood on the tiles, patching himself up haphazardly. A knife that got too close, or a bullet that he couldn’t avoid. 

She looks at his chest. The scar there is thick, lining the bones of his shoulder down to his torso like a jagged end.

He hates them. She can see it in his face. And from the way he works his jaw while she looks at him, a nervous tick of his even when they were kids. But it is part of him, and she loves them because it's his, even if he can’t.

So she leans up to press a gentle kiss on his shoulder, right where the scar on his skin is.

She looks up at him, smiling. ‘Hi.’ 

He looks at her quietly.

She traces her hands along his chest, and he lets her, watching as she feels the uneven lines of old wounds under her palms and the coarse hair there, curling under her fingers. His breathing is deep, and when she raises her hands to brush the hair out of his eyes, he turns to brush his lips against her wrist.

He looks at her with a warm, steady gaze that takes her breath away.

When he leans down to kiss, he wraps his arms around her waist. It’s comforting like this, skin to skin. She could feel his heart beating against her chest and she wonders if he could feel the rapid pulse of hers too. She tangles her fingers in his hair, wanting him closer.

Five tucks his nose under her ear.

‘I want to take my time with you.’ His breath is hot on her neck. A shiver runs down her body, sinfully sweet, while he nibbles lightly on her skin.

The knots in her stomach are alive, tangling and unraveling like a twisting string. She digs her nails on his shoulder.

‘Okay.’ 

  
  
  
  


Time narrows here, because Five has always been inquisitive by nature, but Vanya has never been at the other end of his curiosity until now. He is hungry, tongue and teeth on her swollen lips, relentless when he shoves his tongue in her mouth and kisses her like he’s starving. Vanya’s chest is hot, twisting from the thrill of it, from the finger inside her cunt fucking her slow, just enough to tease, to the way he bites her lower lip when he pulls away, sucking hard kisses on her neck that makes her toes curl.

It makes her desperate with want. 

He is playing with her, figuring out what she likes, watching her come undone underneath him with sharp eyes and a focus that is borderline sadistic. It’s mortifying hearing the needy sounds he manages to wrangle out of her, and when she’s finally adjusted to his rhythm, he speeds up suddenly, fucking her hard and fast with his fingers until all she could do is dig her nails on his skin and take it.

‘Five—!‘ God, the whine in her voice is so unlike her. He crooks his finger, rubbing at that spot with relentless precision, and Vanya outright _whimpers_. There’s a rush of heat sweeping in her stomach, electricity across her skin, ready to burst. He fingerfucks her harder, his thumb pressing on her clit. She’s so close she can see stars.

The windows shutter in time with the building feeling inside of her but none of them pay it any mind. 

Suddenly, he releases her nipple with a hard pop. The finger in her cunt slows just enough to keep her this side of the edge and she’s torn between wanting to cry or to kiss him. 

‘What do you need?’ He doesn’t let her answer. He slides another finger and it starts again, building inside like a wave. 

There’s a part of her that knows he shouldn’t be having as much fun as he is, watching her unwind beneath him, bringing her close then back down again. 

But there's also the other, larger part of her that really, fucking loves it. 

‘You’re so wet, Vanya.’ He quirks at her, casual as he is, ‘Tell me who you’re so wet for.’

‘I.. uh…’ Vanya is panting, ‘I….’

It’s…. She can’t say it. 

She’s never been any good at this sort of thing. 

He is picking up his pace again, and Vanya is helpless against him, holding on tight to the sheets for leverage. His finger is wet with her, three inside now that he’s getting impatient, and the sounds of it coming in and out of her cunt is filling the room with obscene little noises that’s making her head spin.

She rolls her hips to his fingers. 

Five pulls them away.

‘You didn’t answer my question.’ He is grinning now, the loss of him making her whine in frustration.

She wants to come so bad.

‘Who are you wet for, Vanya?'

Vanya flushes. 

It really is unfair how much control he has over himself, or how well he manages to reduce her to a stupid, stuttering mess just from his fingers.

And maybe Vanya’s never been good at holding anything back from him, but she doesn't want to admit that now.

She is squirming underneath him when she says, ‘You. I... I’m wet for you.’

it’s possible to die of embarrassment, Vanya is sure she will be the first to know.

‘That’s right’, his voice is rough, and the tone of it, the way he’s looking at her now, is making her even wetter, soaking his fingers until they’re dripping.

‘You’re going to come for me later.’ He tells her. His eyes are blown wide, ‘I’m going to make you say my name when you do.'

Jesus.

She manages to give him a small, shaky nod.

‘Good.’ He grins. 

And then he’s on her chest. He digs his fingers in her hips, holding her in place, while he swirls his tongue around her nipples and kisses her there just the way he pleases. It’s dizzying, pleasure and pain blending together, melting into sticky, sweet heat. 

Vanya’s never let anyone kiss her like this before. Even in sex, she’s always been afraid to lose control, to let herself be as vulnerable to someone as she is right now. But Five is different.

She wants him to take as much as he wants.

He scissors his fingers inside her, spreading her out, readying her for him. Somewhere in the corner of the room, the cabinets are rattling to the needy little cries he manages to wrangle out of her but he just fucks her harder. Vanya can barely take it. She moans when he finds that spot inside her, rubbing against it, bringing her close, but when he abruptly pulls away again the drawers burst open like gunshots, splintering wood and nail across the wall.

Five chuckles against her skin.

‘I need to—‘ He nips at her nipple and she gasps, ‘I want you to…. Five, I—‘

‘Not yet.’ He kisses the place above her navel, ‘I’m not done with you yet.’

She huffs.

It only makes him smile though, eyes gleaming when he tears away from her tits to look at her. A stark contrast to the casual way he spreads her sticky legs with ease.

‘Only good girls get to come.’ He grins.

That... really shouldn’t affect her as much as it did. It really shouldn’t have her shuddering underneath him like this, eyes fluttering from the sudden, mortifying embarrassment at how much she liked it.

His lips quirk, amused.

‘Is that what you like?’ His breath is hot on her neck. ‘Are you going to be a good girl for me, Vanya?’

Vanya shudders.

‘I…. yes.’ She manages.

He kisses her jaw. 

‘For you… I—‘ She wills herself to look at him. His eyes are playful. ‘If it’s you, I don’t mind’ She says, ‘As long as it's you.’ 

His eyes soften then, something sweet like honey in the glitter behind them. He brings her close to kiss, and she lets herself melt against the smooth pace of his tongue. 

Maybe she’s actually good at this.

He keeps kissing her as he moves down, leaving a trail from her neck all the way down to her navel.

Vanya grips his hair.

He stops to scent her cunt, drifting his nose on the crease of her thigh.

He bites her skin.

'Ah-!' Vanya jolts against his face.

Five chuckles then, before he's on her again, shoving his tongue inside her cunt, licking her as deep as he could go. 

He eats her out until she’s crying for him, holding tight to his hair with white knuckles. Her other hand goes to quickly clamp her mouth shut, muzzling the whimpers out of her when he pushes two fingers inside, fucks that spot inside her over and over again

He licks the inside of her thigh and bites, hard.

'God--' She sobs, twitching from the pain.

‘Louder. I want to hear you.’ He says, before he is back into her again.

It is feverish, the way he uses his tounge to fuck her. She’s helpless. She lets her hands come down to grip his hair, while she rolls her hips to his face, wanting him deeper. There’s no room for modesty anymore. He fucks her without a sense of decorum, nothing but pure lust, groaning into her and fucking her wild, filling the room with her cries and the dirty sounds of her wet cunt squelching around the rapid push of his fingers.

He presses his tongue around her clit and _sucks._

‘Five—!’

Vanya comes with a sharp gasp, and it’s blinding. There’s melting, white heat filling her mind like a tide, and a hot surge of pleasure washing over her, overwhelming and electrifying all at once. 

Somewhere in the corner of the room, there’s a faint sound of glass popping like crystal balloons. 

She comes back to herself in bits and pieces. When she finally manages to open her eyes, he is watching her with the biggest, shit-eating grin she’s ever seen. 

She slaps his shoulder weakly, ‘Five…’ 

‘What? You liked it.’ 

Vanya laughs, despite herself.

She did but he has no business being as smug as he is about it.

She’ll get him for that later.

Vanya rolls him to his back, hooking her legs over his hips, pinning his hands on the mattress. She grins down at him.

‘My turn.’

  
  
  
  


She doesn’t last as long as she would like. 

Vanya has been a livewire the entire night, a tight string, ready to snap, so she really shouldn’t be surprised. She fucks herself hard and fast on his cock, the sound of wet skin slapping as she bounces up and down, and on another night this would embarrass her to no end, watching herself get off like this but it’s hard to think of anything else but the pleasure in his eyes and the desperate way she chases her own after being denied for so long.

Or maybe she’s just never been good at keeping in control when it comes to him. 

He is moaning underneath her, groaning her name, making her toes curl but it’s not nearly enough. She’s _so close_. His hands are balled into fists, a certain restraint in them as she holds him down on the mattress, trying to work him over in any fraction of the way he did to her.

'Fuck.' He grits his teeth, and something about it makes her shudder. She looks at the way he bares his throat to her, works his jaw over like he’s struggling. 

She leans down to lick the length of his neck. His throat bobs thickly against her tongue.

The building feeling is in her gut again, ready to spill.

‘C—close.’ She manages.

Five groans, ‘Vanya—fuck. Give it to me.’

She obeys, rolling her hips, fucking him harder, whimpering at the perfect way he fills her up when she sinks into him, again and again. 

Something about this angle hits just right. It feels so good. She hits that spot over, and over again until the feeling inside snaps and bursts like sugar and starlights and white, hot heat. Vanya comes on his cock with a strangled cry and everything melts away save for the feeling of his cock throbbing inside her, squeezing him tight, milking him for all he’s worth.

It’s all she could do to close her eyes as she trembles through her orgasm.

She thinks, for a minute, that she might’ve died then. 

He sits up and she lets her head rest loosely on his chest. His arms wrap around her, safe and secure, and she thinks if she had, then she doesn’t mind at all. 

He hasn’t come yet.

He holds her for a bit, kissing her neck and squeezing her ass.

'Vanya….' His voice is ragged when he kisses the top of her head. 

She’s breathless.

‘It’s... okay.’ She manages to say.

She wraps her arms around him.

He fucks her like that, guiding her hips with his hands, bouncing her up and down. She is limp against him, still so sensitive, and every stroke is pulling her apart, wrangling out broken little cries from her mouth every time he rises her up and lets her fall down, filling her up with his cock.

Vanya tucks her nose on his neck and memorizes the scent of him. He smells so good. She wants to be here forever, trapped between his arms, gunpowder and Sahara heat, and the scent of something else, something strange and familiar all at once.

Coffee.

Five’s breath is hot on her neck, telling her how good she feels, how well she’s taking him. _You’re doing so well,_ he murmurs, deep and rough, and the word rumbles from his chest like sticky, sweet honey, making her shiver against him.

‘Fuck, you feel so good. You’re perfect’, he murmurs, ‘Tell me how much you like taking my cock.’ 

She thinks she slurs out something like, ‘I mwike it.’ But it’s hard to think buried against his chest like this, when the heady smell of sex is all around, burning like a fever. 

‘That’s right.’ He is panting, ‘No one else gets to fuck this tight, wet cunt. You belong to me. You’re _mine_.’ 

He really likes to talk, she thinks distantly, which admittedly, is an odd thought to have when she is getting fucked within an inch of her life, but it’s true. And Vanya finds that she doesn’t mind it at all when he preens at her like this, hot and desperate, just as she is for him.

She likes being his.

His pace is growing erratic. Vanya digs her nails on his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut.

‘K—kiss me?’ She manages to say, and he shoves his tongue inside her mouth, devouring all she has to give. Her limbs are loose and dizzy, wrapped around him like this. Five kisses her wild and she lets herself drown in the taste of him, and in the warmth of his heart, beating hard against her chest.

When he finally comes, he squeezes hard on her hips, spilling inside the condom. Her name against her lips is strangled. Vanya twitches against him.

They slump together after, all sweaty and out of breath. She closes her eyes and lets her limbs stay limp around him. She doesn’t think she’s capable of much else.

He presses a gentle kiss on her sweaty forehead. 

Vanya smiles, all warm from the affection of it. 

Who knew he was such a softie?

He helps her up, and they go to the bathroom to clean up together. He doesn’t let go of her hand even after he closes the door.  
  


————

  
  


When they return to the bed, he props his arm across her pillow and she slides against him easily, her cheek resting on his chest. 

It’s a simple thing to be held close like this, to be needed by him just as much as he is to her. 

'You know, you were pretty eager to sleep with me when you made such a big deal about letting my powers go unchecked.’ She tells him. He is about to fall asleep and he doesn’t open his eyes when he replies to her.

‘There’s a difference between being in a controlled environment and letting you run around unsupervised while you were clearly inebriated.’

‘Controlled environment?’

‘Sex is obviously a controlled environment. You clearly liked it better than being drunk.’

‘Right…’ she grins. 

He glares at her.

‘You missed Diego’s roasted turkey, you know’ She traces the hairs on his chest idly, ‘He uh…. made it ‘special’ for the family dinner he said.’

‘From the looks of it, the only thing I missed out on is another possible case of food poisoning.’

‘Do you think he does it on purpose?’

‘He’s too much of a moron to do it on purpose’, he snuggles her closer, ‘You shouldn’t have eaten it.’ 

‘Don’t think it would’ve mattered. He would’ve given me leftovers.’

She traces the scar on his chest. 

‘If you….’ She purses her lips, ‘Allison, she’s uh…. helping me out with some of Mom’s old recipes. If you had time to stay, I wouldn’t mind going over some with you too.’

Vanya tries to hide the bit of hope lingering behind her voice.

He doesn’t owe her anything. Even if he slept with her, they’re not…. together, not really. But if he could stay for a bit, maybe she’ll miss him a little less when he goes away again.

It’s probably silly.

‘Planning on showing Diego the real way we cook turkey?’

‘Or how to cook at all.’ She quips. ‘But yeah, something like that.’

He regards her for a moment.

‘You don’t have to’, she says quickly. ‘If you’re busy…. or, you’re…. I know you’ve got plans and, if you want time to yourself I get that I—‘ 

‘No, that’s not it’, He pauses, ‘I’m not planning on spending the rest of my life fighting. Eventually, it’ll become detrimental, more often than not, coming in and out of the timestream like I’ve been doing. There’s only so much I need to do before I can buy us enough time to actually enjoy living in a peaceful timeline.’

‘Yeah? How much time?’

He shrugs, ‘Couple of millennia, give or take. Enough to grow old, drink margarita, or whatever the hell you kids do when we're not busy stopping time and space from it’s inevitable hurtle towards the end of the world.’

‘Wait, that means—‘

‘It means I’m coming home. For good this time.’

‘Besides’, he looks away, ‘If I don’t you’ll miss me.’

He says it with such confidence, it makes her smile. 

‘I will.’ She grins at him, ‘I think I might like you, you know.’

When he looks at her, his eyes are warm. His mouth twitches like he’s wrestling with a thought, but he settles for pulling her closer and settling her head against his chest instead.

It’s sweet.

His voice is gruff when he says, ‘Go to sleep.’

She leans into his chest, smiling against his skin.

  
  


———

  
  


Later in the night, she wakes up to his kisses trailing down her spine. 

His eyes are hooded when Vanya turns to kiss him, and she doesn't think she's ever really known true power until now, with her head between his legs and Five begging for her underneath like this. Not even with the haunting strings of her violin, and the blinding sound of ringing glass in her ears.

He is a mess, fucking lightly up into her mouth, gritting her name between his teeth. Vanya has never been very good at this, so it’s a slobbery, messy act, but he seems to love it anyway. He tells her as much too, and something inside her preens from it.

She takes him in deeper.

When he comes, she digs her nails in his hips and swallows around him. He doesn’t tell her to stop, even then.

  
  


——-

  
  
  


Vanya wakes up to sunlight filtering across the grey blinds of the old apartment. It’s morning, or late afternoon… it’s hard to say. It doesn’t really matter now that she thinks about it.

Five is still sleeping. His large frame is curled around her, his arm around her waist. He’s got his hand squeezing her breast even while he’s asleep. 

Theres the faint sound of running water, trickling somewhere in the corner of the room.

She looks up at him. He is snoring, and his mouth is hanging wide open. Theres something oddly charming about it all. Vanya smiles, tucks her head on his chest and wraps her arms around him.

The plumbing is leaking from the busted walls, and splinters of wood and glass are sprinkled across the grey carpet like confetti. 

It’s fine though.

They can worry about it later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did this get so long??? I hope u all liked it! I'm never gonna write this long again!


End file.
